


Warm Welcome

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Touch-Starved, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-16 18:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15443022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: Draco and Charlie have their own different ways of expressing affection, Charlie through touch and Draco through manners and material things. Charlie, though, is determined to persuade Draco that his method is superior.





	Warm Welcome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



It was Romania’s rainy season, and the water was positively bucketing down as Charlie slogged back to his home after a long day’s work, feeling more vindicated than ever for choosing an upland cabin. As wretched as it was outside, at least he knew that it would be warm and dry inside.

He reached the heavy wooden front door and gratefully dove through the entrance. “I’m back!” he called as he firmly shut the door behind him, blocking out the cold and damp.

At the threshold he hung up his cloak, glad its enchantments had mostly kept him dry beneath, and swapped out the sodden boots he was currently wearing for a fresh pair that was waiting for him. Dragonhide made for a right resilient pair of boots, but even that succumbed to the elements after enduring a through and through deluge all day. And unfortunately, given how a dragon’s tough skin could repel magic, no spell could speed up the drying process; instead, Charlie was left to simply place them by the hearth and wait. As such, he kept numerous pairs on hand so that he was never stuck wearing soggy ones.

Grabbing the damp boots and making his way to the kitchen, Charlie took a moment to appreciate the pleasant atmosphere of the cabin, a sharp contrast the wind and rain lashing against the windows. The floor was entirely stone, as were the walls, but the various colorful banners and tapestries Draco had hung kept out any chill, and the floor was virtually blanketed in all sorts of plush rugs that might not have precisely matched but felt softy and cushy underfoot all the same.

Draco was in the kitchen, taking a pot of salmon out of the stove when Charlie entered, the heavy but delectable scent of seasoned food wafting through the air.

“Welcome home. You’re just in time for high tea,” Draco told him, inclining his head in greeting.

Most people would take the faint smile on Draco’s face as a sign of reluctance or unenthusiasm, but Charlie knew, poised as Draco tended to be, that it was all but a proclamation of everlasting love. So, with his only hesitation setting down his boots by the fireplace and waiting for Draco to put down the steaming dish he was holding, he swept Draco into a strong hug, holding onto him tightly.

“Mmmm,” Charlie sighed, luxuriating in the feeling Draco’s warm body pressing against his chilled one. “You’re right brilliant, you know that? Waiting for me just to wait on me, all this good food hot and ready? I could propose.”

“You already did,” Draco informed him. “And you know,” he said, extracting himself from Charlie’s grip and raising an eyebrow, “just a simple  thank you would suffice.”

But no matter what Draco said now, it didn’t bely how he had melted into Charlie’s hold at first, nuzzling against him before pulling back and declaring the embrace unnecessary.

Draco was often like that, not particularly demonstrative either in public or private and reluctant to return any kind of contact. Privately, Charlie thought it might have had much to do with his family background. While he knew Narcissa and Lucius would have set the world afire if there was even a hope of helping their son, he also had his doubts either of them were ever particularly expressive, especially not physically.

Charlie, always keen on Draco’s reactions, noticed how he relished in touches and kisses, even while verbally rejecting them, even if he never offered or solicited them. But Charlie was never one easily deterred, not when he’d made up his mind, and he was determined to get Draco to the point of both eventually.

So he just gave Draco another solid kiss and reached up to caress his face with a calloused hand, using his thumb to trace a fine aristocratic cheekbone.

“Maybe it would suffice,” Charlie replied tenderly. “But I’d rather go above and beyond, especially for someone as important to me as you.”

The smile on Draco’s face widened ever so slightly, and he looked quite pleased as he accepted the kiss Charlie gave him, not commenting on it at all this time.

“How’s Lavinia?” he asked instead, referring to the ill dragon Charlie had been spending day and night caring for.

“Going to pull through, now,” Charlie said, pride surging through him in spite of his weariness. The hard work he and the other dragonkeepers had put in now had Lavinia on the road to recovery.

Still, it was an exhausting endeavor even without the miserable weather, and as happy as he was to be back home, Charlie felt dead on his feet. While he didn’t mention it, Draco, always very observant of Charlie's moods, seemed to be able to sense how tired he was.

“Go settle into a chair in the living room and dry off by the fire,” he told him, his voice gentle. “Since you’ve had such a hard day, I’d say we can break from tradition. I’ll bring tea in to you.”

“You’re a dear, Dray,” Charlie said, stroking his cheek. “What’re we having?”

“Besides the salmon, rumbledethumps and tipsy laird, and then of course, the tea and crumpets and biscuits,” Draco said, removing a wooden tray from the dresser, one of the platters that Charlie had carved himself.

“Tipsy laird?” Charlie looked at him hopefully. “You remembered my favorite?” He’d always had something of a sweet tooth, and once he’d tasted Draco’s trifle recipe, it had become his dessert preferred above all others.

“I received a parcel from Pansy today that contained some spectacular whiskey,” Draco explained briefly. He glanced at Charlie, a certain softness in his grey eyes. “Thought you should sample it, and what better way than in the pudding you fancy so much?”

“Ta,” Charlie said with a grin, giving Draco yet another kiss before ambling into the living room. It was point of pride that this time Draco didn’t shrug him off or bat him away.

In spite of any perceivable distance between Draco and his parents, he’d mentioned once that they’d sent him hefty care packages when he was away at school, and, like any child would have, seemed to have learned his method of demonstrating affection from them. He didn’t hug or kiss, but he never hesitated to give Charlie tokens to prove his devotion, be it the lavish tapestries that decorated his home or his first choice of pudding, prepared with top-notch whiskey.

Sinking into an well-cushioned easy chair by the roaring fire, Charlie took a moment to luxuriate in the warmth, sighing contently as the heat tingled his skin, before shifting his attention to the doorway. He could see into the kitchen and was able to spot Draco arranging the tea tray just so, loading on generous slices of salmon before piling on the shortbreads and tea cakes. He ended up requiring a separate dish altogether for the potatoes.

At the last minute, even though he hadn’t mentioned them to Charlie, Draco brought out some kind of bread rolls to add to the tray as well, and judging by what Draco usually put on those baps, they would be ham salad sandwiches, not a dish Draco typically made. But it was another of Charlie’s favorites, and the sandwiches must have been prepared especially for him.

Charlie couldn’t help the self-satisfaction that coursed through him at that. As many times at it happened, he was always chuffed when Draco took the time to fuss; there was something very flattering about having such a gorgeous creature as Draco dote upon him, even more so when he was well aware very few others ever received the same treatment.

He may not have been prone to or practiced at physical affection, but Draco had his own way of showing fondness: by spoiling the few he held close in his heart.

And Charlie found it only fair to spoil him in turn, by giving him something he hadn’t had very much of.

When Draco levitated in all of the items for tea, arranging the whole ensemble neatly across the coffee table, Charlie was ready for him. Draco poured him his tea and had just set it on the pedestal by Charlie’s chair when Charlie swept him into his lap, leading Draco to let out a gasp of surprise.

“I know what you’re going to say, that I could just say thank you,” Charlie said, squeezing Draco’s slim hips. “But I get so much of a better reaction from you when I show my appreciation this way.” He gave a soft nip to Draco’s collarbone, earning another gasp.

“There’s a problem with your manner, though.” Draco’s pale cheeks were tinged slightly pink, and Charlie thought it was a good look for him. “How do you know the exact equivalent of a thank you? If one just says it and stops there, that’s enough. But you won’t know when to stop.”

Charlie smirked. “Then’ll I just stop when I’m good and ready, then.”

With that, he pulled Draco flush against him so he could give him a thorough and passionate kiss.

For now, at least, Draco may not have offered any kind of physical touch when it came to affection, and he didn’t asked for it.

But Charlie was determined to ensure that Draco thoroughly experienced and enjoyed it all the same.


End file.
